


Pro

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M, Sex Work, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 00:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto meets the alpha escort Noctis hired for him.





	Pro

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Ardyn is an Alpha escort who specializes in taking care of Omegas. Noctis hires him to take care of his shy best friend Prompto before during and after his heat, cuz he deserves to be pampered. Any omega anatomy is good.” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9236107#cmt9236107).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Noctis puts on some inane movie that Prompto barely notices, even though he tries to pay attention, to let his mind drift elsewhere—anywhere but the burning feeling itching beneath his skin. Noctis sits on the other side of his apartment’s plush black couch, both too far away and not far enough. Prompto wants to hold him. Wants to cuddle up and snuggle together and feel _okay_. But that’d be _so_ embarrassing, and Noctis isn’t _really_ what he wants. Noctis is his best friend in the entire world. But Noctis is a beta.

And Prompto _needs_ an alpha. Needs it like water. He shudders and shuts his eyes, opens them again and swallows down his guilt. He should be at home, suffering alone, like he always did before this. It shouldn’t be Noctis’ problem. Somehow, he mutters aloud, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I did,” Noctis grunts, eyes still fixed on the television screen, like this is no big deal. “’M your friend. Gotta make sure you’re okay.”

Prompto says, “I’ll be fine,” and immediately feels bad for lying. Noctis subtly glances over.

Noctis tells him quietly, “You don’t look fine, and the full heat won’t even start for another day or two.” Prompto’s throat is dry. He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage. He’s always managed before. But it sucks, and every time the heat comes again, he can’t remember how he ever survived. Maybe Noctis can see that fear, because he murmurs, “It’s gonna be okay, Prom. This guy’s supposed to be the best. I had Ignis run every kind of background check in the book, and Gladio put him on notice that if you don’t come back glowing with happiness, he’s a dead man.”

Prompto weakly chuckles. He knows he’s lucky. _So_ lucky. He could never afford an alpha escort on his own. But still, the prospect of an _escort_ , some strong, experienced stranger he’s never seen before, feels even more daunting. Prompto mumbles, “Thank you.” He’s equal parts grateful and nervous.

A knock sounds on the door. Prompto sits bolt upright, and Noctis flicks the TV off. He gets up, while Prompto sinks deeper into the couch. He isn’t usually so shy. He tries to be outgoing. But a new alpha, when he’s like this, on the edge and vulnerable...

Prompto fidgets and watches as Noctis issues the stranger into his apartment, Gladiolus right behind. It’s touching that everyone’s involved—Noctis, Ignis, Gladiolus, all caring so much for Prompto, even though he’s just a commoner and an omega. Gladiolus steps aside as they all converge in the living room, and Prompto locks eyes with the alpha Noctis has hired for him. 

Prompto’s breath hitches. All at once, he’s hit with a surge of _alpha_ : a wild, sizzling wind of pure adrenaline and pheromones, crashing over him in waves. For a moment, he’s actually dizzy—his vision blurs around the edges, and he can barely think straight. Just like that, he isn’t nervous anymore. The alpha’s piercing gaze sweeps over him, then settles on his lips, and the alpha’s wide mouth twitches into a knowing smirk. He looks like he knows exactly how Prompto feels. Prompto wants to crawl to him on hands and knees. 

Distantly, Prompto’s aware that Noctis is talking. The alpha seems to be listening, his attention smoothly sliding back to his host. It gives Prompto a chance to take in his body: tall, broad, clearly toned, thicker than Noctis but thinner than Gladiolus. His dark red hair is a frantic, untamed mess, his handsome face older and lightly speckles with stray stubble. His clothes are a bit chaotic but essentially casual and unassuming. He stands with total confidence: the sort of stable, grounding force that Prompto needs. 

Before Prompto knows what he’s doing, he’s getting up and coming tentatively over to the alpha. Without breaking the dialogue with Noctis, the alpha offers Prompto a benevolent smile and sweeps him up in one arm. Grinning sheepishly, Prompto leans into the alpha’s throat, where he breathes in the man’s raw scent. It makes him mewl with pleasure. But then the embarrassment catches up with him, and he steps away, glancing apologetically back to Noctis. 

Noctis gives him a pitying smile. The alpha chuckles and tells Noctis, “It will all be fine, Your Highness. I know just how to take care of cute little omegas like this.”

Under normal circumstances, Prompto would probably take offense to being called ‘cute’ and ‘little,’ but at the moment, all he can do is smile dreamily. The alpha rewards him by running a large hand back through his hair and purring, “The name is Ardyn, my dear omega—remember that.” Prompto nods, and Ardyn’s fingers slip beneath his chin, cupping it and tilting his face up to lock eyes with Ardyn’s burning gaze. Ardyn promises in a low, throaty voice, “I’m going to take very good care of you, and pamper you the way that you deserve.”

Prompto croons. He believes it. He leans into Ardyn’s touch, and he clenches his body, because he can feel himself already growing wet. He can’t remember if he wore omegan underwear or not. He hopes so. He doesn’t want to stain Noctis’ carpet. But he thinks Ardyn will make him soak right through. Ardyn pets beneath his chin and moves towards the doorway. Prompto instantly follows.

He’s stopped by Noctis grabbing his arm. He looks back, confused, and Noctis tells him firmly, “Call me any time, okay? We’ll pick you up when it’s over.”

Prompto dazedly nods. He tells Noctis, “Thank you,” and means it more than he could ever express.

But then he falls happily into step behind his temporary alpha, and Ardyn escorts him away.


End file.
